


gift baskets are best with blood

by rywaen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon gore, Extended Scene, Gen, Gore, Vivisection, just gore, non-romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rywaen/pseuds/rywaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dr. Chilton is abducted by Gideon, there is a lot we don't see of the vivisection of the good doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gift baskets are best with blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aisu10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisu10/gifts).



> Done for a fanfic commission for aisu! Also posted on the kinkmeme:   
> For the love of god someone please write out a full version of the scene where Dr. Chilton ends up with his guts in his hands. The show cut it off way too soon. Make it as gruesome and horrifying as possible - I love details. I'd prefer (read: looooove) Chilton's POV but Gideon's or even Freddie's could work.

Waking up wasn’t something that should be considered a terrifying experience, but for Dr. Chilton it just so happened that his line of work had been destined to make it so. Before the hard table beneath him and the harsh reality that came with it, everything was a blur; colors and voices and pain all meshed together into one splitting headache that landed him there with Gideon standing over him as he prepped for what Chilton knew to be surgery. Still, everything was a mess in his mind, his senses all in a haze as he blinked slowly and tried to gain some form of comprehension to tell him not to do what he was planning on doing. His torso was numb but he could still move the parts of his body that weren’t strapped down to the table he was lying on, so he moved his head as much as he could, trying to get a good look at his surroundings to see if he could prevent this. 

“In experience, I’ve found surgeries are best preformed under a local anesthetic or epidural with the patient awake. Reminds me that there’s a real person here trusting me with their life, rather than a lump of meat I’m about to reorganize,” Gideon proclaimed as he scrubbed his hands with sterilizer, “And in this instance, I would like to see the look on your face.” The woman, Freddie, said nothing. Did nothing to stop what was about to happen. In what could be called a plea, Chilton forced out, “You’re not the Chesapeake Ripper,” trying to fix what he had done to this man’s mind. “You got inside my mind, Fredrick. It’s only fair I get inside your belly,” the madman replied, his scalpel poised as he looked down at his exposed flesh as if he were trying to figure out which end to unwrap on a present first. 

“This is Freddie Lounds, as you know, who will be assisting me today – or assisting you, as she will be manually pumping the ventilator should you stop breathing,” he continued, and it hit Chilton hard. He was about to be cut open, still alive and awake, due to this man’s sick and twisted game, whatever it may be. 

“Oh my god,” he croaked, and he watched through slitted eyes as the scalpel lowered and pressed against his numbed flesh, the cut splitting him open straight down his middle in a clean line as he began panting harder and Gideon reached for the clamp. “The real Chesapeake Ripper is a collector of surgical trophies. We’re gonna leave him a little gift. In fact, I’m gonna leave him a little gift basket.” As Gideon worked, Chilton did his best to not look down at his torso, spread wide with blood already coating the surgeon’s hands, but it was hard not to. His abdomen was practically ripped open, held apart on either side with a clamp to keep his skin from closing up as he worked, and his insides were wriggling around as he breathed in gasping, labored breaths to try and combat the shock he was going through. 

And then he reached in, snipping quickly at something inside of his belly and he began pulling out, what looked to Chilton, to be his small intestine. It was pulled out so easily, removed from his body like it never should have been there at all, and then thrown with a wet, bloody slap against the inside of a metal bowl Gideon had placed somewhere nearby. Already, Chilton was shaking, the shock getting to him easily as the surgeon reached in again with his scalpel cutting at something deep within his gut with a wet squelch and his hands went inside again to pull out his spleen, red and shining as the surgeon held it up and regarded it as he took in a deep breath. 

“You know, it’s truly amazing how many organs the body can offer up before it really begins to suffer,” he told him as he held the organ up closer to his face. But Chilton was only half-aware of what was going on at that point, his shaking halfway to violent spasms as his eyes fluttered and he twitched before getting a good look at the thing before his eyes. It was blood red and shining from the lights overhead, and the man looked up to Gideon instead, mentally willing himself to wake up and have this all be a terrifying nightmare. The surgeon seemed to lose interest in the organ he was holding and it quickly found itself on top of the intestines with another wet slap of human tissue against one another as it was thrown into the bowl. 

Chilton’s eyes began to slip closed again as sweet unconsciousness began to take hold of him, but it was immediately ripped away from him as Gideon yelled and slapped his cheek with bloodstained fingers, “Alright, stay awake now! C’mon, Fredrick, I’m gonna ask you to hold a few things.” Chilton’s eyes were wide and his body was still shaking from shock and fear as the surgeon loomed over him and regarded his opened middle with curiosity. “Hmm, what next?” he asked, a chill running down Chilton’s already fear-wracked spine. 

Taking his time, the surgeon slid his scalpel inside with an expertise only someone with years of practice under their belt could accomplish, and he chose the next organ to cut away and remove from the doctor’s body. Pulling it up, it seemed to just keep going and going as it unraveled, revealing to the man the beginnings of his large intestine. Seeing it being pulled and tugged made Chilton feel as if he were going to be sick, and his heart felt as if it had just stopped for a moment as he felt the tugging sensation, though he didn’t feel any of the pain that he had expected would come with it. 

“Did you know,” Gideon began with a sigh as he continued pulling out, “that the large intestine is, on average, four feet and ten inches long?” he asked as he held up the entirety of the organ before the man it had just come out of, the blood and fluids dripping down Gideon’s bared arms. Again, it was tossed aside into the bowl with a wet, slippery, bloody slap of organs hitting one another and the surgeon looked inside again to choose his next victim. Freddie stood next to the suffering man and did nothing but look stoic as he glanced up to her with a pleading glance, willing her to put an end to all of this, but she only stood there clutching the respirator that she was to use later on him. 

“Ahh,” the surgeon hummed as he reached in again and Chilton looked down again with his vision blurred and fuzzy from the shock that was still making his breathing labored and his body shaking hard, “still have your appendix, I see.” Though, the time from when he said such, to when it was removed was short lived, so Chilton really saw no point in him stating so, but he soon knew why when the man grabbed one of his hands with a bloody one of his own and moved it so that he was cupping just below his opened abdomen. “Hold still. If you move, you’ll ruin it and we wouldn’t want that, right?” he asked, then he reached up and slapped Chilton hard again, smearing blood on his cheek as his eyes flew open and his heart felt as if it skipped another beat. “Right.” 

The scalpel was replaced with a clamp and scissors once more as he reached in and began snipping away at parts and pieces he didn’t care for, carefully pulling out each slippery organ with as much care as the last. Next, it was the pancreas, then the gallbladder, and one kidney followed the other, making way for the liver to be pulled out and placed carefully next to the appendix. “Now, to make you nice and pretty, doctor,” Gideon told him, his voice sounding far away and drowned out by the deafening pounding of his heart in his ears as he shook harder and harder, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his breathing finally began stuttering and slowing. 

He heard Gideon shout at him again, felt another wet slap against his cheek, blood now dripping from the marks he had left with his fingers and his eyes opened slowly again to see the edge of the ventilator’s mask that was now pressed against his face, Freddie Lounds hovering over him with a worried expression on her face. 

At this point, he could only hear the pounding of his heart and the occasional drone of his surgeon’s voice above him, never a response coming from the woman beside him, only quiet worry in the wet sounds of his insides being cut and pulled out from his still living body, as if he were no better than a corpse being autopsied, trying to find out what had killed him. He thought of how they wouldn’t need to bother with an autopsy, considering his situation, but he was also aware of the fact that Gideon had no intension of killing him this night. No, he was not that merciful. Why would he go to all of the trouble to pull his organs out and arrange them into a gift basket for the Ripper, as he had said, just to kill him in the end? No, Gideon wasn’t that kind of man. He was proving a point, not committing a murder. 

After a while of having his lungs manually pumped full of air, his vision began to clear and he blinked slowly as he looked down, most of his organs in his arms and nestled perfectly against the gaping hole in his abdomen as the surgeon finished up arranging his guts exactly as he wanted them. 

“Ah, back in the waking world, Fredrick?” Gideon asked as he saw the man’s eyes fluttering, though his heart was still beating loud in his ears, the blood feeling as if it should have been spilling out on the floor and filling the room. “You’ve got wonderful timing, you know. I’m about to take my leave,” he told him with a grin, then looking to Freddie with a nod. “Remember; keep him breathing until they get here. I wanna see if our dear patient here makes it or not.” As he spoke, the surgeon began cleaning himself up after he had made sure that the organs weren’t going to slip or fall away from how he had placed them. The woman only nodded and looked down to the man’s exposed guts with a look of mixed disgust and interest. 

Chilton watched the man move through the light haze that was still cast like a veil over his eyes, his heart stuttering and his body feeling much too cold for him to still be alive, but he knew from the way air was being still pumped into his lungs, he wouldn’t be dying any time soon. “Oh, and should you see our guest of honor, doctor, please send him my regards.” Gideon gave them each a smile and he finished pulling on his coat, walking over to fix Chilton’s own clothes that he had fixed once the operation had been finished before he made his way out. 

As they waited for the authorities to arrive, Freddie didn’t say a word, only shushing him softly whenever he tried to make a sound to call out for help or a moan of pain, the only comforting sound being that of his slowing heartbeat as he willed it to stop, the anesthetic wearing off and the pain making him wish that Gideon had held even a shred of mercy for him and had been willing to pull out his heart along with the rest of his insides that he felt sitting heavily in his hands. 

The wet slide of blood felt as if it were sinking into the skin of his hands, being soaked up by his palms to always be stained with the remains of this day, as he knew that if he did make it out of here; he wouldn’t be able to ever erase the memories of this day. When Jack Crawford finally made his appearance, it felt as if it had been hours, not minutes and his heart still hadn’t decided whether or not it was going to continue holding on or not. 

“Gideon’s gone. He’s still alive,” Freddie finally said, her voice not making him feel anything but detachment and despair, as well as Jack’s shout, “We need medical in here now!” What had been done had been done, and Chilton could do nothing but feel the harsh pound of his struggling heart and the weight of his own organs in his hands.


End file.
